Dragon of Snow
by Violet Eagle
Summary: She is a seventeen year old spy for Thirteen and she has just been chosen to go to the one place she has always feared: The Arena. Rated T for language.
1. Chosen

**So, I had a new idea for a Hunger Games fic. I can't say more than that. Hehehe. Hope you guys enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I only own my OC's and plot. Everything else belongs to Ms. Collins.**

_Italics are flashbacks of the main character when in her POV._

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><p>I stand in the group of seventeen year olds and look around. I'm supposed to be meeting Haymitch and instead I got dragged into the square. Damn Peacekeepers. I hate this time of year. I've never had to go through this before, but I've always feared for the District children who did. Now I can safely say that I know their fear. The Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. An idea cooked up by the damned Capitol to keep the Districts from rebelling like we did seventy-four years ago. The part about it that disgusts me is that the people in the Capitol make it out to be some sort of pageant. It's not. At least for those of us in the Districts and Thirteen it's not. The Games are nothing more than a means to keep people in line by making their children kill each other.<p>

I look up at the stage as the clock strikes two. The mayor of this District and the District Escort, Effie Trinket, are sitting in their chairs. Fear grips me again and I don't know why. I don't have any slips in that glass ball. According to our intel, it's been rigged so a twelve year old is going to go in, not me. Is this how these children really feel every year? The mayor stands and starts talking. I know this tale, the history of Panem. My mind goes back to the day I left my home.

_"What do you mean I'm going out? You never send me out." She looked me and smiled, if it could be called that._

_ "You are going out. I need you to find this man." She handed me a picture of a middle aged, paunchy man. "He has some intel that we need back here in Thirteen. He doesn't like us sending the same people every time and I've used everyone I can for now. You are the only one left. What are you so worried about?" I dared not mention that it was the time of year for the Reaping. Even though I had never actually participated in a Reaping, it scared me because it was my ancestors who had caused it before they were _'destroyed'_. "Once you find him and get the information, you get out, before the Reaping if possible."_

_ "If possible?" I almost screamed. I barely managed to keep my voice level._

_ "There is a risk that we can't get to you again before then. But you are not a regular in the District so you don't have your name in the ball to be drawn. You're safe enough if you don't draw attention to yourself."_

Applause breaks the memory up and I look at that the stage. Trying to hug Effie is the man I was sent to find. She sent me to talk to a drunk? Isn't he supposed to be a victor? I chance a glance at the mayor and see that he is distressed. Of course he would be. Twelve is now the laughing stock of Panem. Though, I doubt Coin I laughing. This is the man who is supposed to have important information for me. The mayor introduces Effie and she steps up to the podium.

"Happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Ugh, that line disgusts me. The odds are never in favor of the tributes. The only time that they are in a tribute's favor is when that tribute has incredibly wealthy sponsors. I glare at her as she moves to the glass ball with the girls' names in it saying, "ladies first!" Even her bubbly personality disgusts me. The disgust is keeping me from being worried about something I shouldn't be worried about. But the crowd's anxious waiting is getting to me as Effie digs her hand into the ball and grabs a slip of paper. I am safe, I keep telling myself. I am safe. There is no way that my name is in the glass ball. Effie returns to the podium and smooths out the paper. She smiles and looks up. I am safe. "The female tribute from District Twelve is Snowden Caltrit!" My heart stops.

It takes a minute for me to get my breath back. All the girls in my section, all the kids, turn to look at me. Of course they are going to know that I am the one who is supposed to go up there. I can feel the eyes of the younger ones on my back. I take a deep breath and walk down the makeshift path, my back stiff and straight. I am fighting to keep the fear from my face. Haymitch looks at me as I mount the stage. I can see that he recognizes me. How? I don't know or really care at this point. Right now, we are both understanding that my coming here was a ploy to make sure that I was here to hear my name be called to go into the Arena. Effie calls for volunteers. Of course, no one does. I have watched the Reaping too many times to know how it is in Districts like Twelve. Haymitch staggers forward. I can see anger in his drunken eyes.

"Look at this one!" He yells. How is he managing this when he is drunk off his ass? I'll have to ask him later since I can smell the liquor on his breath and him as he wraps an arm around me. It feels protective. "I like her! She's strong! Look, no tears! Lot's of …" he pauses to think of the word. "Courage!" He yells in triumph. "More than you!" The arm is gone and Haymitch is pointing at the camera. "More than you!" He is shouting. Is he addressing Twelve or is he drunk enough to be yelling at the Capitol? Or is he yelling at those in Thirteen. I know they will be watching the recap of the Reapings so they can see who is going to be dying this year. If he is yelling at Thirteen, then he has seen me. I often run around the place to keep in shape and doing errands for Coin. Whoever he is yelling at is never revealed as he falls from the stage at the same time he opens his mouth again. With the cameras on him, I have the chance to blink away the tears that have finally made it to my eyes. Then Effie is grabbing a slip from the middle of the boys' bowl and zipping back to the podium while Haymitch is whisked away.

"Gale Hawthorne!" She calls. I look into the crowd and see a girl with eyes a darker grey than mine and black hair pale a little bit. Then I turn my attention to the boy, more like young man, walking up onto the stage. He is eighteen and he has the same coloring as the girl I just saw. They could be siblings. I wonder if they are. She calls for volunteers, but no one does. I see him give a stern look to a clump of younger boys, a group of siblings I guess. Then the mayor starts the Treaty of Treason. I don't listen as my mind goes back to hearing my name.

Coin said I was safe. I wasn't going to be chosen to go into the Arena. My name was not supposed to be in that ball. But it was. Wasn't there a council a few months back? Yes. A council of those at Thirteen. I wasn't allowed to know what about, but I had heard hushed whispers that they needed a figure head for the coming fight. They were getting ready to attack again and they needed someone to unite the people of Panem. It should have been someone from the Districts, like the boy that was chosen to go with me into the Arena. Maybe they did decide to choose someone from the Districts and I'm just a messenger. No, they know that I will fight to stay alive, like I have been all my life. They have chosen me to be their figure head. Well they have another thing coming. I'm not going to be used as a figure head. I will lead Thirteen at Coin's side. She's already promised that I would be her successor if she died before this was resolved. We saw each other as family, the only family each other had. Did she argue against my being chosen? Or is she the one who suggested my name? She knows that I am afraid of the Arena. I have watched the Games too many times to not be afraid. The Games are what we are fighting to stop. And I have been chosen to be that figure head. Not to mention, I have to pretend that I am from Twelve. Haymitch had better be sober when I next see him. I'm going to need his help.

The mayor motions for me and Gale to shake hands. We do and the anthem plays as we turn to face the crowd again. The moment the anthem ends, we are marched into the justice building and taken to separate rooms. They're for good-byes. I won't have any of those. I don't have anyone to miss me except for Coin and she's gone. I assume it's near time for us to be taken to the train when someone comes in the door. They are given ten minutes since that is all the time that is left. From the build, I can tell that it is a man. He removes his hat.

"Boggs!" I greet happily and hug him. If Coin is my mother, then Boggs is my father. He taught me everything I know, including how to fight. "Boggs, what is going on? Coin said that my names wasn't supposed to be in the ball."

"She had to say that." He tells me sadly. "The council boiled it down to three options. Choose whoever won these Games; pick a candidate from the Districts and manipulate them, or choose their own candidate. They decided to choose their own. There was a late night election and your name came up the most. So she had to tell you what was necessary to make sure you were in Twelve for the Reaping. She fought with the council over it for hours. In the end, she had to go with what the people of Thirteen wanted."

"Then why did she send you?"

"To protect you. And to talk to Haymitch. He does have some information. Also, she wanted me to give you this." He pulls out a silver chain with a mythical creature on it. It's a dragon. No one else knows what it is. It is a private thing between the three of us. Not to mention I doubt the higher ups would appreciate that she spent so much money on me. "She knows how much you like these creatures." He clasps the chain around my neck and makes sure that the dragon is looking at the world. "I have to go back to Thirteen now and make my report. I got lucky. I was able to talk to Haymitch before the Reaping. Telling him about you is what got him more drunk than he should have been. He's promised to take care of you while you are in the Arena. You have to win, Snowden. This all rests on you now." He turns to go before the Peacekeepers can interrupt us.

"Boggs," he turns to me, "if I die and Gale wins, choose Gale. He had younger brothers who wanted to volunteer for him. I get the sense that he would have volunteered for them had they been picked." He nods and it is time for him to leave. I let a few tears fall as I watch him go. Him and Coin have been the only family I have ever known. Now I may never see them again.

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><p><strong>What do you think? I have got plans for this fic and I hope you will stick with me for them. Thanks for reading and please please please review<strong>


	2. Child of the Capitol

**Going to break away from Snowden for a chapter and reveal some things to you, the readers. Enjoy!**

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><p><em><strong>Coin:<strong>_

She watched the screen and scowled. This had not been her idea, but they needed someone they could trust to win the Games. Haymitch had wanted to just let a kid from Twelve be the one. She just wanted one who could be a leader and that they could get on their side. It had been a council's decision to send Snowden in. The black haired, snow-gray eyed girl had a lot of fight in her. She had been brought to Thirteen as a baby, orphaned by the sudden disappearance of her parents. She had raised Snowden herself, naming her for her eyes. Snowden was strong and confident and didn't let anyone bully her. She knew that the girl would hate that she had been lied to, but Coin knew her fear of the Games and so the lie had been necessary.

_"Why did the council have to choose you, Snowden? I know you are strong and capable, but this isn't what you wanted. You were raised here in Thirteen. You don't know the Districts. How are they supposed to follow you when you're not even one of them?"_

"The female tribute from District Twelve is Snowden Caltrit!" Coin pressed her lips into a thin line. She had to watch, like the parents, as the child she had raised was placed into a life and death situation. What made it worse was that it was a recap of what had happened earlier since they could not get a live feed earlier. She wished she could have been there to give the necklace to her foster daughter. She hoped that Boggs had been able to talk to her before she left.

_"Make me proud, Snowden. Show the council that they will regret wanting you as their figurehead."_ She watched as the people of Twelve made a path was made for the stranger in their midst and Snowden walked it, back straight. _"This is wrong. She should not have to go into that place. What is going to happen when Snow sees her?" _She pressed her lips into a thin line. She wasn't supposed to let herself get into those thoughts. If she was thinking them and she slipped, everyone would know that Snowden wasn't technically an orphan. The door opened and she was about to turn off the monitor when Haymitch staggered toward Snowden.

"Look at this one!" She could hear the anger in his voice as he yelled and wrapped an arm around Snowden. Coin watched, mesmerized. "I like her! She's strong! Look, no tears! Lots of…courage! More than you!" Coin involuntarily stepped back as Haymitch pointed at the camera. Somehow, she knew that he was talking to her and the council. "More than you! More than you!" Then he fell off the stage. Coin watched long enough to know the other tribute's name and then turned off the monitor. She turned to see who had joined her in the room.

"Somehow, it's worse watching it a second time." Boggs said.

"So you were able to get there in time."

"In plenty of time. He wasn't that drunk when I met him. He must have drunk more after I told him what the council had decided."

"Were you at least able to talk to her?"

"I was. And I gave her the necklace and I told her the truth about why she was really there. She didn't like it, but she seemed to understand. She has a message to that she thinks the council should hear."

"Oh?"

"She said that if she were to die and her counterpart were to win, that we should choose him to replace her."

"But she's not going to die."

"She's prepared for the possibility." Boggs said and then looked critically at his president. He could tell that something was bothering her. "Coin," she didn't say anything. "I haven't said anything before and that's because I didn't care. But ever since the council decided that Snowden should be the one to unite the Districts like they want, you've been tense."

"You've seen me tense before."

"Yes, I have. But this is worse than before. There is something that you're not telling me. Something about Snowden."

"What makes you think it's about her?"

"You've never been this nervous about our other agents. What makes her so special in your eyes? And you can't say that it's because you raised her because you've hardly been an influence on her life."

"That's because you never saw us together. I did have an influence on her life. I taught her how to think. How to get information from people. Everything she knows, she learned from you and me."

"Then why are you worried?"

"Because of where she is going."

"You've sent her into the Capitol before."

"But not like this."

"Besides her going into the Arena, what makes this trip so different?"

"This trip, she'll be seen by Snow. I've worked hard to keep her out of his line of sight and one small election has placed her right there, where I didn't want her to be." Boggs grabbed his commander and turned her to face him.

"Why is that such a big deal, Alma Coin? Why have you worked so hard to keep her hidden until now? Even during the council, you sided with Haymitch which is something you hardly ever do."

"You really want to know." Boggs nodded. "Fine, I'll tell you. But you have to take it to your grave. No one else knows. Eighteen years ago, I went into the Capitol on a reconnaissance mission. I was there for a year before I was employed as a midwife for the president's daughter. She was pregnant and no one in the Capitol really knew how to deliver a baby and the ones who did were afraid of the president at the time. So I was there when the child was born. It was a baby girl. The mother was young and became sick the next day. The president decided that he would care for the girl while her mother recovered. I don't know what happened to the mother, but I knew that the baby could be used against her grandfather if raised right. At the time, I was still working for the president, taking care of the newborn as best I could. When I disappeared, so did the baby. The people here think that she was an abandoned orphan. But she's not. She's a stolen child raised to think like us, the enemy of her real family."

"That baby is not Snowden. Snowden was found out in the woods."

"That's because that's where I left her to be found. I couldn't exactly show back up with the granddaughter of my enemy in my arms now could I? No, I had to have her found by the guard. It worked out well. She was brought to me here in the command center and we took her in."

"Coin, are you trying to tell me that Snowden is Snow's granddaughter."

"There's no trying about it. I am telling you. Snowden Caltrit is President Snow's granddaughter. And I am afraid he is going to recognize her the moment he sees her." Boggs looked at her and frowned, knowing the full extent of the danger his adopted daughter was in.

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><p><em><strong>Haymitch:<strong>_

_"Damn council." _He thought as he took another drink from his private flask. _"Any fool can see that she is a Capitol child. I knew some didn't agree with the Games. But I never thought that any would be fool enough to let leave their child in Thirteen by themselves. Look at the trouble this one's in now. And now I have to make sure she stays alive because the council wants to use her. One thing's for damn sure. She won't be used like someone else would be. Eh, they'll see their mistake soon enough."_ A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"What do you want?" He yelled through the door.

"Dinner is ready, Sir." The attendant replied and walked away. Haymitch growled and drank some more from his flask. He knew that he should be sober. He had an obligation to keep the girl alive.

_"She had better be a fighter. She looks like it. Not to mention that I remember seeing her run around the compound the last time I was there. She was smaller then. I wish I had gotten to talk to Boggs again before we left. Maybe he got to talk to her and she knows more than I do."_ He took another long draught from his flask and contemplated going to the dining car. He didn't particularly like Effie. Her personality was too cheery for a funeral pageant. _"Then again, she doesn't really care about who dies. She just wants a District that will get her some recognition. Hell, she inherited me and I've done everything I could to make her life hell. I wonder how much more I can accomplish before this trip is over." _He chuckled and took another long swallow, imagining all the ways that he could ensure Effie didn't have a good trip.

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><p><em><strong>Snow:<strong>_

He watched the television and the recap of the reapings. He did this every year so he would know what to say to the children when they were in the City Circle in a few days. It needed to be scripted. He couldn't let them know that he could care less if they lived or died. This was just a way for him to show his power over the people of Panem. He watched with amusement as the people of Twelve made a path for the one that was going up onto the stage. He watched closely as she turned and faced the camera. The announcers commented on the fierce look on her face which was obviously a mask to hide her fear. President Snow, on the other hand, thought that he was going to have a heart attack. He knew those eyes. His daughter had had those same eyes before she died of grief. Her daughter had been stolen from them just days after her birth, while his own daughter was sick.

He didn't pay attention to the male tribute, but watched as she was ushered into the building behind her and then onto the train that would take her to the Capitol. The only thing on his mind was that his granddaughter, if it was truly her, would be going into the Arena where there was a good chance she would die.

_"How did she end up in Twelve? She shouldn't have been there. She was supposed to be here. Snowden? We never did get the chance to name her. But those eyes. They could be from Twelve, but I know they're not. I looked into those snow-grey eyes every day for years. Snowden Caltrit," _he thought to the picture of her on the television, _"you are coming home, I'll make sure you win. Welcome home."_

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><p><strong>So, you all know the truth. hehehehe, looking forward to your reviews. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	3. Train Ride

**Review Response: Elves are Awesome, no, Coin and Boggs are not married but they both raised Snowden and both of them see her as a daughter. ColMikeFuser, you are waaaaaayyyyyy ahead of me on that one. You'll just have to wait and see what happens. Hehehe.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>I strip off the dress I wore into the District and dig through the drawer. The dress is just going to remind me of who sent me here, not that I am likely to forget in a hurry. The damn council ruined my life. I was set to go back to Thirteen after the Reaping. But they had to force Coin to trick me. And they expect me to win. How the hell am I going to pull this off? I don't even know what I need to do once I get into the Capitol. This isn't like the other times that I've been there. This time, I'll be the center of attention. And Gale. What am I going to do about him? There can only be one winner. I know for sure that he is going to fight like hell to get back to his family. If that does happen to be the case, it'll be me and him in the end. If I am to go through with the plan, I will have to kill him. Or I can let him be used as a puppet.<p>

I sigh and pull out a dark blue shirt and pants and take a shower. I need to talk to Haymitch. He'll know what to do. About thirty minutes after my shower, Effie comes to collect me for supper. I go, reluctantly. I really don't want to be around people at the moment. But Effie won't leave me alone, so I have to go. We enter the dining room and Gale is there, waiting. Haymitch is nowhere in sight.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie asks brightly. I want to puke.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap." Gale answers as he fiddles with his fork.

"Well, it's been an exhausting day." Ha! What's been exhausting about it for you, Effie? I bite my tongue to keep from saying the words that want to come out. I look at Gale. His eyes tell me that he's thinking the same thing. Effie wasn't taken from her family and the only home she's ever known. She doesn't have to put on a brave face before being sent to her death. She wouldn't last a minute in either of our worlds. I don't get a chance to say anything as supper arrives. The first course, a thick carrot soup, arrives. Then it's a green salad followed by lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit, and chocolate cake to top it off. I hear Effie make a comment about our table manners when we're eating the lamb and I struggle to continue to use my fork. Gale, on the other hand, puts down his fork and knife and finishes the meal with his hands. I grin but don't follow his example. I've learned the hard way to never be without a weapon and right now, the fork was the best one I had. I had hidden my knife in my boots which are hidden under my bed since I let Effie talk me into wearing some sort of flat slipper to dinner.

We finish our meal and I feel like I'm going to puke and it's not from Effie's bubbly personality. In Thirteen, we are on strict rations. This is the most I've ever eaten in my life. We go into another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings. I watch and memorize each face as they are called or volunteer. A red haired girl from Five is flagged in my memory. She can be dangerous, just like the Careers. Finally, they are showing District Twelve. I find myself easily in the crowd. My name is called and my heart stops again, as if I am there again for real. What makes it worse is I know that it already happened since I am sitting on a fancy couch watching what happened only hours ago. We watch as the children turn to look at me and then make a path for me. I walk with my back stiff as a board and mount the stage. I instantly take notice of the fierce look on my face and chuckle inside as the commentators say it is a mask to hide my fear. They are partially right. In that moment, I'm mad as hell at the council. Then Haymitch staggers forward and I can tell that he is talking to the council and Coin. He saw me during my days in Thirteen when he would visit. I barely notice the program has ended before Effie is speaking, again.

"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior." She says. Gale laughs.

"He was drunk. He's drunk every year."

"Every day." I add and smirk. He was always drunk when I saw him, the few times that I did anyway.

"Yes," Effie hisses and I smirk even more. Finally gotten rid of that damn bubbly personality, eh Effie. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and death!" Like you care, Effie. Haymitch chooses that moment to stagger into the compartment.

"I miss supper?" He slurs before vomiting and then falling into it.

"So laugh away!" Effie says as she flees the room. Gale and I watch Haymitch for a few minutes before coming to an unspoken agreement. We pick him up and half-lead, half-carry him back to his room. We dump him into the bathtub and turn the shower on him. I wash my hands off in the sink and then leave. I am not fucking dealing with cleaning him up. In all honesty, Gale probably won't either. He doesn't strike me as the all-caring type.

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><p>"What?" I call at the door. I haven't been able to sleep even though I had officially gone to bed hours ago. The door opens and a soberish Haymitch walks in. I look out the window and he sits on my bed since I'm in the only chair in the room.<p>

"What do you think of this plan?" He asks.

"I wish I had been told. I may not have liked it, but if I had been told straight out what was to be done, I would have done it without question. Having to be tricked makes it worse than I could have ever imagined. I went to the reaping thinking that I was safe, Haymitch. It was supposed to be a little girl, twelve years old, that was supposed to be reaped for the Games. When my name was pulled out," I don't finish. He knows how it felt. He went through the same thing. I breathe and then look at him. "So what's the plan?" I ask.

"Stay alive. They want you to be the symbol of the rebellion when it finally happens. So, we have to give the people someone they can follow into the fight. How are you holding up?"

"Fine." I start to fiddle with the necklace Boggs gave me. It's a small comfort, but it's enough.

"Get some sleep." Haymitch says as he stands up. "Tomorrow, the Games continue."

"But I thought,"

"Snowden, the Games started the moment you were reaped. The Games don't start once you're in the arena. They start when the tributes are reaped. The train ride is only a reprieve. After this, you'll be training or on camera trying to win sponsors. Get some sleep." He walks out and I crawl back into bed. It seems like only a few minutes before Effie is rapping on my door to wake me up. I groan and try to imagine life in her head for a moment. The image I get makes me want to puke again. The woman is too bright and bubbly for me, a girl who's grown up in Thirteen where no one is ever happy. I get up and put back on the dark blue outfit I had worn last night. I quickly tie back my hair with a hair tie on the dresser and then walk to the dining car. Effie brushes past me, a cup of coffee in her hand, sipping it while muttering obscenities under her breath. I chuckle at this new side of her. I notice that Haymitch is chuckling to and Gale looks a little red. I have an idea about what was said and chuckle again. "Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch says to me. By the look of his face, he drunk more after our talk last night. I catch him adding spirits to the red juice in his glass as I eat my food, ignoring the coffee and hot chocolate in favor of the orange juice.

"So," Gale says, "you're supposed to give us advice." I look at Haymitch. He's supposed to be sober for me, the hope of Thirteen.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." Haymitch answers and then laughs. He said the same thing to me last night, but now, it seems like he's making a mockery of it. And this is supposed to be the man who is going to help me win the Games.

"That's very funny." I say, only there's a murderous venom to my voice and I see Gale flinch slightly. But he recovers and knocks the glass from Haymitch's hand. The red liquid runs toward the back of the train.

"Just not to us." Gale finishes. Haymitch looks at his spilled drink a moment and then punches Gale, sending him from his chair. Haymitch reaches for the spirits and I drive a knife between his hand and the bottle, getting close to his fingers. He pales a little as he meets my glare, as if remembering what Coin wants him to do. I, on the other hand, wait for the blow that I know is going to come. But he recovers from his fright and then sits back and squints at us.

"Well, it looks like I got a pair of fighters this year." Gale gets up from the floor and sits back down. I sit to and notice that Gale doesn't reach for any ice. Haymitch was right, the Games have begun. Gale knows that the bruise will think that he's already fought someone and not gotten caught. Haymitch nods in approval and turns to me. "What else can you do?" I pluck the knife from the table, balance it on my finger and then toss it behind me, landing it in the seam between two panels, right where I was aiming. I smirk. Gale looks at me in some shock. Maybe I went a little too far. "Stand over there. Both of you." We quickly obey and stand in the middle of the room. Haymitch circles us and prods us, examining us like we're something he is going to buy. "You're not entirely hopeless. Fit enough to survive harsh conditions. And once the stylists get a hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." He returns to the table. "All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you." He says. He looks at me quickly before glancing away. He's only saying this for Gale's benefit. The orders are to get me through the Games alive. "But you have to do exactly what I say."

"Fine." Gale and I say at the same time. Gale opens his mouth again and I walk over to the wall and my knife.

"One thing at a time." Haymitch interrupts as I pull the knife out of the wall. "We'll be pulling into the station in a few minutes. From there, you'll be put into the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. Don't resist." I turn sharply. This was not part of the plan.

"But-," I start.

"No buts." He says and picks up the bottle of spirits. "Don't resist." He leaves the car. As the door swings shut, the world outside goes dark. We're in the Capitol. I take a breath to steady myself. I've been here before, but always in the shadows. This time, I'll be in the light and the center of attention.

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><p><strong>Hehehe, thanks for reading and please review!<strong>


	4. Old Friends in Dangerous Places

**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy!**

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><p>I grit my teeth and listen to the ripping sounds my hairs make as they are torn from my leg. I have promised myself that I am not going to cry in front of these people, no matter how much they hurt me. And no matter how much I want to puke with their high voices and mouths that barely open when they talk.<p>

"Sorry!" Venia, an aqua haired woman with gold tattoos above her eyebrows, says as she pulls the strip away. "You're just so hairy!" I roll my eyes before looking at her. I'm surprised to see a sympathetic face. "Good news," she continues. "This is the last one. Ready?" I grip the edges of the table I am on and nod. What's left of my leg hair is ripped away with a painful jerk. I've been in the Remake Center for the past three hours, since we got off the train. My stylist has yet to make an appearance. I guess he doesn't want to see me until my prep team, Venia and two others, are done getting rid of obvious problems. The solutions to these problems have been to be scrubbed down with a gritty foam that's removed the dirt along with what feels like three layers of skin, turn my nails into uniform shapes, and rid my body of practically all the hair on it. The only hair left on my body is what's on my head, my eyebrows, and in my nose. Other than that, I'm a fucking plucked bird.

"You're doing very well." Flavius, a guy with orange corkscrew hair and purple lipstick, says from behind me. "If it's one thing we can't stand, it's a whiner." A small curl dangles in the corner of my eye. He has been doing my hair for the past hour, possibly hour and a half, while Venia and Octavia, a plump woman with pea green skin, have been dehairing me and fixing my nails. "Grease her down!" Venia and Octavia rub me down with a lotion that starts to sooth my raw skin after an initial sting. I keep myself from sighing in relief and pleasure. Once they are done, I am forced off the table and they circle me, each armed with a pair of tweezers to remove any stray bits of hair. I'm naked in front of them, but that doesn't really bother me. These three don't actually count as people in my book, not the people I'm used to dealing with anyway. "Excellent! You look like a human being now." Flavius says and all three of them laugh. I look in the mirror. I look like a plucked bird about to be roasted. I force a smile onto my face.

"Thank you," I say sweetly. I want to puke at the sound of my own voice. "We don't have much cause to look nice in District Twelve." I keep myself from biting my lip. I almost said Thirteen. My words win them over completely.

"Of course you don't, you poor darling." Octavia says, sounding in distress for me.

"But don't worry," Venia jumps in. "By the time Cinna is through with you, you're going to be absolutely gorgeous." Cinna? Now why does that name sound familiar.

"We promise!" Flavius breaks my train of thought. "Let's call Cinna!" That name again. My prep teams darts out of the room and move to the mirror where my robe is hanging. The quick glance shows that my hair is in a high pony tail with a small section curled and moved in front of my face. It's the nicest it's ever looked. I usually just wear it tied back and my bangs held back with a clip. The door opens. I turn to see a young man in a simple black shirt and pants outfit, brown hair, and green and gold eyes. The gold is complimented by the gold eyeliner that has been applies lightly. Wait, green and gold eyes. We both pale and I jump for my robe, yanking it off the mirror and wrapping it around myself. Fuck me! I straighten the mirror and catch a glimpse of my face, now a lobster red.

"Snowden?" He asks.

"Hey, Cinna." I squeak out and I know I turn a brighter shade of red.

"What are you doing here?" The question drives away my embarrassment and I can look at him again. He steps back and I know I have a scowl on my face.

"Didn't you hear the council's decision? They decided to choose someone from among Thirteen to come and win the Games. They chose me. They want me to be the one who can unite the Districts against the Capitol." He sighs and I cross my arms over my chest, still slightly embarrassed. "You're not going to start drinking on me, are you? I already have a drunk on my hands and one is enough."

"No," he seemed about to say more but decided against it. "Well, I have to do my job. Take off the robe."

"W-what did you just ask?"

"I _told_ you to take off your robe. Whenever I've seen you in Thirteen, you've been running on some errand or another. I need to see what I have to work with." Reluctantly, I take off my robe and let him circle me. I have to keep myself from crossing my arms. Finally, I can put back on the robe. We walk into the sitting room and sit on opposite facing couches. He presses a button on the side of the table between us and our lunch, chicken and chunks of orange in a creamy sauce laid on white grain with green peas and onions and rolls shaped like flowers and some sort of honey colored pudding. I eat some of the chicken and we're silent a while as we eat. I know both of us are trying to forget about the fiasco in the other room. I had forgotten he had become a stylist and that he would be debuting at these Games. I knew his name sounded familiar. "So, Snowden," I look up at him. "For your costume, Portia, the stylist for Gale, and I are thinking to dress the two of you in complementary costumes. As you have been told, it is customary to reflect the flavor of the district."

And by flavor he means industry. Twelve's industry is coal. I remember some of the costumes that I've seen: skimpy outfits with hats and head lamps. One year, the tributes were completely naked and covered in black powder to show coal dust. He wouldn't dare, would he? "So, a coal miner's outfit?" I ask hopefully.

"No. The coal miner thing is overdone. You won't be remembered in that." He would dare. Of course he would dare. He's always liked to torture me. "So we're going to focus on the coal itself." I am going to kill him for this. "And what do we do with coal? We burn it." I look at him in shock. That's not what I expected. "You're not afraid of fire, are you Snowden?" He sees my expression and grins. He is so dead when I see him back in Thirteen.

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><p>"I'm going to kill you for this." I hiss at Cinna as he makes a small adjustment to my headdress. I'm dressed in a simple black unitard that covers me from ankle to neck, something I'm glad for after this morning's fiasco. In place of my boots, I'm wearing shining black leather boots that lace up to my knee. But it is the cape made of streams of orange, yellow, and red and the matching headpiece that has me nervous, and furious. Those are to be set on fire just before out chariot rolls onto the street.<p>

"You'll be fine, Snowden. It's not real flame. Otherwise I would have your hair up in a bun or something like that." My hair had been left in the ponytail Flavius had put it in. "Snowden, the girl who was on fire." He says dreamily. I bite my lip to hide my fear. My friend has become a madman in my absence! Gale and his team join us and I'm just a bit relieved that he's dressed in an identical costume. I give him a once over and I can feel him do the same to me. Before we have a chance to say anything, Cinna and Portia whisk us to the bottom level of the Remake Center which is a giant stable. The opening ceremonies are about to start. I look at the tributes being loaded into their chariots as Cinna and Portia help us into our chariot that is drawn by four coal black horses. They arrange our bodies and the drape of our capes before moving off to consult with each other.

"What do you think?" I whisper to Gale. "About the fire I mean."

"I'll rip off your cape if you rip off mine." He answers through gritted teeth.

"Deal." I say, hoping that we can get them off without severe burns. Cinna is so dead for this. And then Haymitch is next. He's supposed to be keeping me alive and now I find myself dancing with death by fire. My thoughts are interrupted by the opening music blasting through the speakers. The doors slide open and District One rides out. We're about to ride out when Cinna appears with a lit torch.

"Here we go." He says and touches our capes with the torch before I can stop him. I wait for the heat, but there's only a tickling sensation, a very faint tickling sensation. He climbs in front of and lights the headdresses. "It works." He sighs in relief. I glare at him. Yup, so dead. "Heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you." He jumps down and shouts at us, gesturing for us to hold hands. Gale and I look at each other and debate it silently before taking each other's hands. We did make a deal with Haymitch after all. Those two are so dead when I get out of the arena. I glance at the screen and I gasp by how we look. We're breathtaking with the fire illuminating our faces and the trail of fire from our capes. In place of an actual smile, I smirk, making myself look confident. Gale's face remains impassive and I recognize a hunter's look in his eye. Someone tosses me a red rose. I catch it and give it a sniff before nodding in the general direction of the giver. As we reach the City Circle, I notice how tightly I'm holding onto Gale's hand. I'm surprised neither of us has cut off the other's circulation. I loosen my grip, but he holds tight.

"If you let go, I'll fall out of this thing." There's a pleading not to his voice so I hang onto his hand. Though, in this aspect, Cinna is cruel. It's not fair to show us as a united team and then put us in the arena to kill each other. We stop in front of President Snow's mansion where the president himself is standing on a balcony above us. He's a small man, thin with paper-white hair. He gives the official welcome and I can feel his eyes on me through the entire thing. Shouldn't he be looking at every tribute? I look up at him. Yup, he's staring right at me. But why? Maybe our costumes. Then we're riding into the Training Center. I let the smirk fall from my face as Cinna and Portia arrive and help us down from the chariot and carefully remove our capes and headdresses. Portia extinguishes them with a spray from a canister. I force my fingers from Gale's.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me." He says. "I was getting shaky there."

"It didn't show." I answer and walk to the elevators. I need sleep. Not to mention I might kill Cinna for this before he has a chance to work more of his magic on me.

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><p><strong>Okay, I really, really, want to know what you guys thought of this chapter, so please, please, please review. Thanks for reading!<strong>


	5. Training

**Hopefully this starts to get away from the book. And sorry for the late update!**

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><p>The moment the trainer releases us to the different station, I ditch Gale and go to the stations by myself. I don't care that they want us to be mentored together, we are not training together. There is still the chance that I will have to kill him in the Arena and he will try to kill me. Best not to let him see what I can do. I find it funny that Portia and Effie found it odd that Gale and I didn't know anything about each other. Of course, they don't know that I am from Thirteen, not Twelve, which is a good thing. If more than just our small circle knew where I'm really from, there is no way that I am leaving the Arena alive.<p>

I decide to review my knowledge of knots and make sure that I still remember everything Boggs taught me back home. Just thinking about him makes me miss them and what I actually do. Being a spy is not easy, but it's something I can pull off being as young as I am. Once I'm satisfied, I go to the camouflage station and make sure that I can hide myself in the wild. I've never been out in the woods except for rare occasions when I needed to pick some berries. I look at the weapons as all the tributes head into the lunch hall off to the side of the gym. Gale sidles up next to me.

"What is going through your head?" He hisses in my ear. I turn to glare at him. "We promised Haymitch we would do what he said, no matter what." I snort and walk into the room ahead of him, heading straight for the food cart farthest from the Careers. He follows me, intent on following Haymitch's orders of us sticking together. As of right now, we are being coached together and I'm hating every minute of it. We sit together and I look at him sweetly and fear jumps to his eyes.

"I don't care what Haymitch said. But you should care about what I am about to tell you. I exploit weaknesses. So, if you don't want me to kill you the moment we step into the Arena, don't let me see your weaknesses and what you can do. Understand?"

"Clearly." He whispers and we eat in silence. There is no way I am working with this boy from Twelve. If I work with him, I don't know if I'll be able to kill him. That happened with one of my friends from Thirteen. He had been a spy for the Capitol and had tried to kill me during the trip back to Thirteen after a mission. We scuffled, but one of the other soldiers had to take the kill shot. Having friends is dangerous right now. I can't afford to have any. Not now. Not ever.

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><p>"What?" I demand as I walk into my room and find him glaring at me. I really want to take a shower. I'm sore as I spent the last half of the day wrestling with the assistant. He always got the upper hand on me, but I needed to appear like I didn't know what I was doing so I could get a low score and be forgotten about until the end.<p>

"I thought you agreed to do whatever I said for you to do."

"I thought you were only saying that for his benefit. We both know that the orders are to get me out of the Arena alive. They want me as their symbol of rebellion." I pull the tie out of my hair.

"We need a backup in case you get yourself killed." Not likely that will happen. And I find it hard to believe that he cares enough if I'm killed. He just wants to make Gale feel better since they're from the same District. I remember again how it wasn't supposed to be me coming to the Capitol, but a little twelve year old girl. I wonder how things would have gone if the council hadn't interfered.

"What?" I hiss as I narrowly avoid being hit by Haymitch. He was talking and I wasn't paying attention. He had better be careful or I will be fighting him.

"I was telling you to stick to the plan. You were presented as a team during the opening ceremonies. You have to stay that way through the Games." I glare at him. He knows something that he isn't telling me.

"If I have to work with him, I'll have to be the one to kill him. It's better this way."

"Talk it over with him tomorrow. And don't ditch him!" How the hell does he know that I left Gale alone today? I got back up here before him. And I didn't recognize anyone else from Thirteen in the gym today. "Do you hear me, Snowden?"

"I hear you." I snarl. He nods and totters out of my room. I slam the door shut behind him and head for the shower.

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><p>I take care to avoid the hand-to-hand combat station on the second day of training and, per Haymitch's orders, stay with Gale. He says I should try shooting a bow. I try and fail miserably. Not that much of a surprise. I prefer a gun and a knife since that's what I was raised on. Next he takes me to the plants station and I learn the different plants. It annoys and scares me that he is making a large effort to ensure I survive. We don't talk much during lunch, except for a hushed conversation about being allies. Neither of us say it, but we both know that it won't happen. I've already threatened to kill him there and I know he will try to kill me as well. What the hell was Haymitch thinking?<p>

Back on the floor, Effie and Haymitch grill us about the day's events. I missed this little session last night as I refused to come out of my room for dinner after the conversation with Haymitch. After the session, Effie leaves us alone. Soon after, Gale leaves and it's just me and Haymitch.

"Happy now?" I snap, wishing that I had a glass of wine with me now. But the last time I had some, it turned me upside down for two days and tomorrow are the private sessions with the Gamemakers.

"No," he answers.

"What did I do wrong now?" I look at him and debate throwing his glass of wine across the room. My patience is running thin with this man.

"Do you know how to survive?"

"I've survived my whole life. What do you think we do? Sit around and twiddle our thumbs while we wait for information. I've been here countless times, hiding in the shadows while you get your tributes killed." This has the desired effect and he tries to strike me. I grab his wrist and use his momentum to launch him across the dining room. He leans against the wall a moment, just looking at me. I don't take my eyes from him either. Both of us are breathing heavily from the small fight, him from lack of exercise and me out of anger. "Convinced I can survive? Or do you need a spy in the gym to tell you that I can?"

"Get out of here." He says quietly, but since the only sound is the two of us breathing, I hear him. I look at him a moment longer before turning on my heel and walking out to find Gale in the hallway. I try to ignore him, but he follows me and stops me before I can get into my room.

"Come on." With the adrenaline leaving my body, I let myself be led to the roof. Cinna showed it to me that first night to calm me down from nearly killing him. These last few days, I've had a temper that I can't explain and know that I've never shown before. Maybe I'm just stressed.

"What do you want?" I ask as I sit in the garden area.

"Just to talk."

"I don't want to."

"What happened with Haymitch?" I don't answer. I can't answer. He can't know where I'm really from and what I can really do. Tomorrow, I plan on showing the Gamemakers that I can win a hand-to-hand combat match with one of the biggest assistants in the bunch. He's not that much bigger than Boggs and I've beaten Boggs plenty of times.

"It's nothing, just forget about it."

"You threw him across the room." He argues. I chuckle lightly.

"We lost our tempers." I say. "Look, Gale, I'm tired and want to sleep." I stand up and go to my room. My dreams are filled with images of Coin looking at me with loathing and contempt as if I've betrayed her.

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><p>I wake up to the sun shining in my face. I dress and meet Gale for a quick breakfast before we return to the gym. We spend the morning throwing spears and him trying to get me back to the archery station. I barely listen to him as I am looking at the Gamemakers to see if I recognize one. After my fight with Haymitch last night, I know that I need a good score in order to get sponsors. I already plan to prove that I can fight well enough, but I need a sympathetic Gamemaker on my side and that would only come from a spy from Thirteen. But I never met with them personally when I came here as a spy to get information from them.<p>

Too soon, it's time for lunch and for the private sessions. Supposedly being from Twelve, Gale and I go last. I will be the very last one since they call the boy tribute and then the girl. Which spells trouble for me. I'll be the last one to go before the Gamemakers and I know for sure that they'll be more interested in getting home than looking at me. When Gale is finally called, I am left alone and I start rethinking my strategy. I can always lose the match and let them give me a low score so I will be forgotten. But that can backfire and the Careers will hunt me down. Though, that would be trouble for them as I will kill them on sight. But a better score will get me sponsors and I need those if I'm going to get through the Games. So I have to win the match. Fifteen minutes later, I'm called in. I look at the Gamemakers. I can tell by their faces that they are ready to be done with this part of the Games. Well, might as well make it something to remember.

A few heads look at me a little more closely as I select the biggest opponent possible. We start the match. The assistant aims for the places I usually let myself get hit. I avoid the blows easily and respond in kind, every one of my blows hitting. He manages to get me on my back and tries to kick me. I roll out of the way and jump back up onto my feet, kicking him in the knees on my way up. He falls and I whip out the knife I grabbed on my way in. He freezes. I've won the match. After a few moments, I let him go and he leaves the gym. I turn to look at the Gamemakers. There are a few nodding in approval. The rest, including one that's starting to look familiar, are more focused on the arrival of a roasted pig. I have been upstaged by a fucking pig! Well, they need a knife. Might as well provide them with one. I toss the knife up, catch it by the blade and throw. It lands right in the pig's neck, just below a hand reaching for the apple in the pig's mouth. There are shouts of surprise and a few stumble back, including one, the familiar one, falling into the punch bowl. I walk out without saying anything.

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><p><strong>Well? Thanks for reading and please review<strong>


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